


We Are Bound

by TheDerpyPony



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9117955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDerpyPony/pseuds/TheDerpyPony
Summary: Stranded on the beach of an imploding Scarif, Cassian and Jyn share a few passionate moments.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing like this in first person so please forgive any technical mistakes!

I thought I would die there. I thought I would die there on that tower balcony, amidst the chaos of battle at the hand of the enemy: a hero's death through and through. I can't say that I would have been glad of it, but in those long moments at the business end of Krennic's gun, I had accepted it. The reprieve of such a fitting death had almost comforted me. I felt that my purpose had been fulfilled. I had done my duty by my father and my cause. But here I am still, spared by fate to guard my friend in our final moments. His weight is almost too much for my fatigued body as I drag him through the sand. The palms sway dramatically around us and the rumble of shattering earth and rushing wind is overwhelming. I wince at the stinging sand and cough earnestly, shutting my eyes against the onslaught. Beside me, Cassian groans, but I don't stop to look at him. My eyes are fixed on the dissipating horizon. There is no hope of escape this time. There is no-one left to save us, I am sure of it.

Exhausted, I release my grip on Cassian's arm and rest him gently down beside the lapping waves. He is weak from our ordeal; one arm obviously broken and an uncooperative leg, but he doesn't bother to further evaluate his injuries and neither do I. I sit down beside him without a word. What is there to say? Now, in this most dire of moments, words escape me. I know he is in pain and I wonder if he is despairing. Will we even have time to despair, together? How fast is the blast wave moving? It's hard to tell from such a distance but instinct tells me it won't be long. Not long enough. This last thought strikes me and even as the wind stings my face and the air warms from the heat of the blast, I still can't grasp the finality of it all. 

A sudden touch redirects my attention and I look down to see Cassian gripping my hand in his own. He laces his fingers in mine purposely and with a tenacity that surprises me. 

"Jyn," he breathes, gripping my hand even tighter. 

In another place, I would have laughed aloud; the seriousness on his face is just so like him; but now, in this moment, I don't find it funny. He pulls impatiently on my arm and for a moment I mistake his gesture for an expression of fear. But there is no strangeness in his eyes, no shaking of his breath. He looks squarely at me with a severity that reflects the direness of our situation and a clear longing. During our brief time together he has continually surprised me in both thought and deed. My natural resentment toward him had melted after the tenderness he'd shown following the death of my father, not to mention his defiance of direct orders to kill him himself. His reasons for not pulling the trigger are vague and unconvincing and I privately suspect that he disobeyed them for my sake. His hardened rebel heart began to open to me then and here it is now, spilling into my open hands as death races towards us.

He is too weak to lean up, so I lower myself to him, drawing his head into my lap. Touching him with such tenderness both soothes and excites me. I do not have to be well-versed in the art of romance to realize the totality of what is happening between us, or rather, what has been happening between us. Denial is futile. 

My fingers stroke his sweat-soaked hair and gently brush it back from his eyes. My body shields him from the worst of the wind and sand and he is able to hold our mutual gaze with such ferocity it stirs me. For the first time I notice the damage to his face: the sizable lump forming on the side of his temple, the open wound oozing on his rough cheek, and countless scrapes and cuts. I resist the urge to nurse the spots, reluctant to remove either hand from its occupation on his body. The wind has made quick work of my hair tethers and my hair blows loosely around my face. His eyes, his wise dark eyes, search mine earnestly for…for what? Confirmation? Consent? I lean further down to shorten the distance between our faces to mere inches, allowing my hair to fall in a curtain around us; screening us from the cruelty of what's to come. My loose locks brush his face delicately and I smile as his eyes, so serious and passionate, close softly as he relishes my closeness. His grip on my hand loosens as his body relaxes beside me and his breathing quiets. Sensing an opportunity, I gently press my lips to his dirty forehead, instinct compelling me to express my gratitude, my loyalty, and my…my… the rest of the thought escapes me as he cleverly tilts his head back to catch my lips with his own. 

I barely notice the howling wind and rising heat. I do not notice that the waves have retreated from the bank, drawing backwards as the oncoming tidal wave rushes closer. I do not notice the explosions from failing infrastructure or the roar of nearby fires. The violence surrounding us fades into a gentle hum. It all recedes, forgotten, as we exist together for the first and, by all certainty, the last time. 

Our kiss breaks as we both regain our breath, yet Cassian manages to pull me closer with his good hand, his broken one tucked protectively into his side. My arms wrap around him tightly and draw him upwards, propping my legs on either side of his broken body. His tattered face rests against my breasts and I press my cheek against his messed hair. Every instinct I have screams to protect him, to shield him, to spare him whatever pain I can. I hold him like a child and he nuzzles my breast as if he were one. I do not stop him as he draws my vest aside and fumbles blindly with my shirt. With his good hand he loosens the strings that fasten it and eagerly presses his lips to my exposed flesh. 

"Jyn," he says again, this time with a shuddering sigh, as he takes my nipple into his mouth. My body responds immediately with a sigh of its own and I involuntarily arch into his oral caress. I tighten my legs around him, as if to trap him against me. He sucks greedily at my breast then moves swiftly to the other as I bare it for him. I moan quietly into his hair and relish the feel of his hot mouth working at my sensitive skin. His movements are surprisingly graceful as he slides his lips from my breast and up my neck. I'm melting into the feel of his lips again when he suddenly bites down hard on my shoulder. I yelp loudly, my anger rising, but I am shocked at my body's response. A dull warmth is spreading in my loins, rising up from deep within me. It wells at the unintentional touch of Cassian's broken hand between my legs and I let out a little gasp. I can feel him grin against my shoulder where he is nursing the bruised skin with his tongue. 

"Mmmm, Jyn?" He whispers to me, so quietly I can barely hear him over the wail of the wind. I moan in reply. He kisses me again, hotly, and I eagerly comply with his passions. I have always been a quick learner and I soon capitalize on this talent by keeping up with all his tricks of the tongue. He nips my lip and draws it in, releases it, then draws in my tongue, all the while keeping his lips moving in the most pleasing of sensations. He's done this before, I think and feel a pang of unfamiliar jealousy. This thought fuels my aggression and I possessively grasp him between the legs. His surprised cry against my lips delights me. Instinctively I squeeze, first gently then more roughly as his moans louden. I roll him over so his back is pressed against my breasts and his head rests against my neck. I reach down and stroke the delightful swelling between his legs and he growls into my neck. The sensation rouses me and my curiosity is peaking. This part of him I know to be tender and particularly sensitive, but I don't know exactly what to do. I am driven purely by instinct and his responses. Not the timid type, I reach right into his pants and he jumps in my arms when I wrap my fingers around something hot and very hard. He positively wails into my neck and his good hand grips the sand, his broken hand resting limply on my leg. I explore him with both hands, minding not to expose too much of his tenderness to the angry elements. 

Gently, I lean him back down to rest on his good elbow, and hover over his waist, drawing him out into the open. He steadies himself and watches me intently, his eyes burning. I lick the leaking tip curiously and that's all it takes for his eyes to roll backward and shut. His head hangs back as I explore more of him with my mouth, planting kisses everywhere. Catching on to his impatient bucks, when I envelope the tip between my lips and suck he collapses squarely onto his back and moans loudly. More liquid leaks from him and I eagerly lick it away as it replenishes, relishing the sweet salty taste of him. His good hand reaches up from its grip on the sand and instead grips my hair. 

"Jyn…Jyn, please…" 

My head instantly snaps up at the sound of his pleading voice. I have never heard him beg. Ever. For anything. He notices the absence of my mouth and opens his eyes to investigate, then laughs aloud at my expression. 

"You heard me," he coys, "please."

I grin wickedly at him, "please, what?"

I lower my head to continue my play and don't wait for an answer. He doesn't offer one. Instead he groans and pants as my fingers comb curiously through the dark tuft of hair above his cock and follow its trail upwards to feel the hardness of his muscles. I rest a hand on his stomach, beneath his shirt, delighted at the rapid rise and fall of it as he struggles for breath. His fingers grip my hair impatiently and I nip him scoldingly before drawing him deeply into my mouth. Cassian writhes beneath me and I am thunderstruck. Cass: always so calm and cool and quiet is unraveling in front of me in the midst of this chaos. His cries of pleasure are almost drowned out by the wailing wind and I find my own pleasure is tickled by the increasing vibration of the sand itself. I feel him pulse inside my mouth and I suck him in deeper. I hear him chant my name, almost like a prayer, and I am suddenly compelled to swirl my tongue over the tip. Without warning my mouth fills with his hot liquid and instead of pulling away, I relish the taste, licking greedily at the tip as it spurts. I never imagined he could have tasted so delicious. The act itself had never crossed my mind until just now in these few passionate moments. I lick him tenderly, suppressing a whine as his hardness gradually softens beneath my tongue. He grabs me roughly by my hair and pulls me up to level with him. My eyes widen at the site of him: he looks positively savage: pupils blown so wide the lovely brown is nearly gone from them, face flushed, lips red and caked in sand. I brush it away hastily and crush my mouth against his, instinctively moving on top of him.

I straddle his hips with my own and quickly lower my upper body over his, covering our heads with my loose vest to protect us from the whipping sand. He kisses me tenderly again and wastes no time in explaining his intentions. I feel him tugging at my trousers and I begin to acquiesce when the sand stings my exposed skin and I hiss into his lips. He groans like an animal and releases my trousers, then with his good hand grips one end of the seam and with his broken hand grips the other, tearing a hole in the crotch. I muffle his scream with a grateful kiss and gently pull him from his own trousers. Before the sand can sting him, I slip him inside of me and our moans harmonize beautifully. The feeling of having him inside me like this is indescribably satisfying. The part of him that I'd shown such loving tenderness now massages my pleasure so tenderly and sweetly that I feel on the verge of tears. Our mouths haphazardly meet then place kisses wherever they land as we both pant deeply, moving together in a rhythm so strong and effortless. 

"Cass," I whisper, "Oh Cass…I…I…" I cut myself off with a strong moan from the sensation of a particularly strong thrust. I long to switch positions, to lean back against his strong chest and feel his arms around me, to feel him thrust into me from behind and pleasure me while holding me. I long to feel a reprieve from the stinging sand and blasting heated air, to feel protected and sheltered by him in this last intimate moment, as I know he would willingly do if he could. He senses my thoughts and breaks our kiss to look up into my eyes. His thrusting gradually slows and he lies still beneath me. I can see grains of sand stuck in his long dark lashes, catching in his wounds, and my heart heaves in my breast. The elation of passion is fading from his face and pain is replacing it. I cannot bear to see him like this: broken and needing. For the first time his eyes leave mine and he looks out toward the impending blast wave that has gained considerable ground. 

Without thinking, I roughly grab him by the jaw and turn his face back to mine. 

"No, Cass, no! You mustn't look!" I cry, the intention of speaking calmly escaping me completely. The wind swirls around and pelts us mercilessly with more sand and spray. Unwilling to surrender yet, I shut my eyes against it all and thrust my head down, tossing my loosened vest over our heads. I cannot bear this. I cannot bear to lose him, to lose this wonderful new existence we have finally allowed ourselves. I thought I was content to die with my duty done but now I cannot bear to leave this life behind. There is so much left undone. I am angry. I am afraid. When I look into his eyes again, my own expression wild with sudden, primal fear, I see peace in his wise eyes. Gently, he places his good hand against my cheek where tears are beginning to stream and wipes them away with his sandy thumb. He presses our foreheads together and softly kneads my clenched jaw as I fight off more tears. I am not ready. 

"Jyn," he says tenderly, "look at me." 

I obey him and he whispers, "We may be taken now. But Jyn, we are bound. We will always meet again." 

I begin to shake my head in denial but he quiets me with a soft kiss. 

"Don't you see? We WILL," he says with vehemence, "be together again." 

I begin to wail when he cuts me off sharply, "say it."

When I hesitate he grabs the back of my head roughly and forces us even closer, our breathing beginning to labor as the air thickens with blowing sand. He thrusts upwards into me so abruptly and powerfully that I gasp. Together we quicken the pace again until we are actively competing for the upper hand. I desperately will it to last forever, to never end, this feeling of togetherness and totality. 

"SAY IT!" He screams over the howling of the wind. 

My tears have stopped and I look into his despairing eyes.

"We will be together again," I breathe against his lips, "I love you. I always have and always will. In this life and all the others."

He kisses me hungrily then offers: "our time will not always be so short."

He pants and breathes out the last two words in a whisper: "I promise."


End file.
